


arms of the ocean

by qbrujas



Series: blades appreciation week 2021 [2]
Category: Blades of Light and Shadow (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Female Elf MC, i just really wanted to write about the sea, post-book 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29542722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qbrujas/pseuds/qbrujas
Summary: It’s no wonder to Nessa that the sea is where Imtura feels at home. It suits her, down to the bone.
Relationships: Imtura Tal Kaelen/Main Character (Blades of Light and Shadow)
Series: blades appreciation week 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159646
Kudos: 5





	arms of the ocean

The sunlight dances on the surface of the water.

The tides and turns and currents of the open ocean are still a mystery to Nessa, still something wild and unpredictable, unfamiliar—the skills to orient herself in the woods help little here.

The sea is a different creature entirely (and she has started to think of it as a creature, living and with a will of its own, beautiful and terrible; this is how the orcs talk about it, too).

She has knowledge of the stars and a good memory for landmarks, and that counts for something, but not for much.

But she is starting—after months spent aboard the _Wraith_ , she is starting to understand.

She is starting to see the subtle beauty of it, too, beauty that has snuck up on her (oh, she had been certainly awed at the expanse of the sea when Mal had first shown it to her, all that time ago, but there is so much _more_ than shock and surprise now).

The beauty in how sometimes it goes calm, quiet (but never entirely quiet), nothing but blue-green-dark scintillating water as far as the eye can see. It had been disorienting at first, but there is something thrilling in it now, something that makes her want to laugh and dance.

The beauty in the cold, exhilarating spray that hits her face when they sail at full speed and she leans a little too close to the side of the ship. The way her hair has turned wavy from it; the way her lips taste like salt now, just like Imtura’s do.

(She wonders what she might think of Riverbend, if she were to return to it now. There was no open water anywhere near the village, barely a lake within walking distance—she might miss it too much, now. The saltwater of the sea has found its way into her veins.)

The sharp air, the salt smell of it—every breath she takes feels deeper and fuller and _more_ —so permanent she doesn't feel it anymore until they’ve been inland for a day or two and then she _misses_ it.

The sound of the waves, without which the night is too quiet, too eerie.

And oh, there is the sunlight: she has never felt sunlight so strong, so _pure_ before, even in the hottest days of summer, and she wonders if the salt in the air might not be the cause of it.

(She wonders, too, what she might think of Undermount—what she might think if she were to go there again, stay and learn the history of her ancestors; what she might have thought had she grown up within its walls. But she doesn't think of this often, and the thought is easily cast aside by the time her name is called to fulfill her own tasks aboard the ship.)

It’s no wonder to Nessa that this is where Imtura feels at home. It suits her, down to the bone.

She herself is like the sea and its waves, that wild, uncontainable energy—all you can do is be swept by its currents, awed by its power—but with so much, so much underneath the surface. Nessa has never known anyone so alive, so vibrant.

The sunlight dances on the surface of the water.

Nessa stands on the deck of the _Wraith,_ staring off into the horizon—a small island some distance away, their course set for it, is all the land she sees—and it's so easy for her to be lost in thought, to find her way into daydreams and musings. A lull in her tasks and here she is again; no stories or songs or books for her to lose herself into, not here, but the beauty of the sea is entrancing enough.

“In your own head again, darlin’?”

Imtura’s voice shakes Nessa out of her thoughts—she hadn’t heard her approach—and she laughs. Laughs honestly, earnestly: a sound of pure delight.

How new, how odd.

“Well, you know me,” she replies with a smile, turning her head in Imtura’s direction. Nessa is used to being taller than others around her, as an elf who was raised by humans, but she has to crane her neck to meet Imtura’s eyes. When she does, she finds the amber of them sparkling, with sunlight and something else.

“That I do,” comes the reply, a little teasing, a little fond, and with a smile of its own. An expression Nessa has started to see more and more on her face, but which still takes her by surprise—and makes her heart flutter—different as it is from her usual demeanor as Captain of the _Wraith_.

Soft, like small waves on the calm, open ocean.

The smile is fleeting, but brings Nessa a step closer, her own lingering on her lips.

“Did you need something?” Nessa asks, genuine curiosity coloring the words. Aboard the _Wraith,_ it’s rare that she sees Imtura during the day for more than a few minutes at a time—she has her own tasks, as does Nessa, though they more than make up for the time not spent together when there isn’t work to be done.

“Nah, just came to see you.”

A simple statement, but Nessa knows how much weight it carries—as Captain of her ship, Imtura does not have a single moment of respite. For her to take not one, but several to come find her, to see her—it means a lot.

The smile (that never left Nessa’s lips, it so rarely does these days; as rarely as it found them before) widens.

“You missed me that much?” she asks, leaning closer.

Instead of answering, Imtura laughs—a sound as warm and rich as any Nessa has ever heard—and wraps an arm around Nessa’s waist, pulling her close.

The sunlight dances on the surface of the water, and Nessa laughs, too.


End file.
